Little Moments
by Mickey1980
Summary: Short ficlets/drabbles, one-chapter each. Marked K for the sad bits. Warning: Femslash - Don’t like it/Don’t read it.
1. Cheer You Up

Sam heard Brooke in her room. It sounded like she was crying.

"What's up?" she asked, sitting next to red-eyed girl.

"We broke up."

"Sorry." Sam took Brooke's hand.

"I didn't love him," Brooke said. "He knew it."

"So... why are you crying?" Sam leaned into the other girl.

Brooke wiped her eyes again and sighed. "Because nobody's ever going to love me."

"I love you," Sam answered, smiling. "Does that cheer you up?"

Brooke didn't answer. Her expression was almost vacant as she looked at Sam.

"What's the matter?" Turning to face Brooke, Sam put her hand on her shoulder.

"I love you too, Sam. I wish I didn't."

For once Sam couldn't think of anything to say, so she leaned forward and kissed the other girl.


	2. Same Old Story

Brooke was sitting in bed reading when Sam came in.

"Whatcha reading?" She asked, flopping down beside her blond stepsister.

"Pride & Prejudice – for English," Brooke answered, frowning.

"What's wrong with that? It's a great book."

"Yeah, I know, but all the people in these stories fight and argue and then decide they're in love. It's stupid – like you can't be in love with someone unless you hate each other first."

Brooke tossed the book on the bed. "According to that theory, you'd be my one true love, all the fighting we've done. Anyway, I'm getting a drink – you want anything?"

"No," Sam whispered as Brooke left the room.

Alone, she swallowed and let out a long sigh.

Downstairs, Brooke leaned against the countertop, her hands shaking.


	3. A Visit

Cassie swung her feet while she waited for her aunt to sit down. The thirteen year-old enjoyed visiting, but got restless sometimes.

Finally joining her, Cassie's aunt handed her a cookie, which she shoved whole into her mouth, causing the older woman's eyebrow to arch. "The stare of doom" Cassie called it, but it softened to a smile when the girl giggled impishly at her own bad manners.

Cassie thought her aunt was beautiful, even in her sixties. She'd seen old photos of her and was always amazed that someone who looked like that could be related to her. It gave her hope her clumsy, awkward phase would end someday.

"So, you were going to tell me the story about when you and Sam were in a food-fight!"

"She'll be home in an hour," Brooke answered. "We'll tell you together."

"Geesh," the child gasped in feigned exasperation, "I don't want a re-enactment."

Her aunt chuckled, and sipped her tea.


	4. Broken Glass

The glass breaking on the floor caused Brooke to jump back suddenly, milk spilling on her bare feet.

"Are you okay?!" Sam shouted, running towards the other girl.

"Yes – No! I… I mean, I didn't cut myself, but…" Tears began to run down her cheeks.

Brooke melted into Sam's outstretched arms, burying her face into the other girl's shoulder.

Four minutes earlier, Brooke poured herself a glass of milk, while Sam leaned against the doorway.

"So, what's going on?" she asked the blond. "You've been acting weird all day."

Eleven hours and fourteen minutes earlier, Brooke sat up in her bed, her hands clasped over her mouth, covering a gasp as a realization struck her.


	5. Damned if ya do

Everything was wrong.

Sam McPherson ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, realizing that, no matter what she did, she couldn't make things okay.

She could make a fool of herself and tear her newly-formed family apart – and for what? Just to tell the truth? Just to get the weight off of her chest?

No, she'd keep quiet. She'd smile like everything was fine and do turn her back on the things she most cared about, the Truth… and Brooke.

She'd keep her feelings to herself.


	6. Cancer

Brooke missed her hair. The golden strands had trailed like a silk veil around her head, not like the scarf she used now to cover where the gold had fallen out in clumps.

Grabbing one of the remaining strands, she pulled it between the blades of the scissors, snipping it away, dropping it into the sink.

They told her it would grow back, once they were done, once they'd burned the disease out of her. For now a skeletal face with only tufts of hair above it stared back at her from the mirror. She felt water on her cheeks as her eyes became cloudy.

Sam knew what Brooke was doing in the bathroom. She knew the blond was cutting away the last of her hair and she hated herself for being afraid to go in there.

Brooke couldn't keep food down because of the radiation, but Sam was the one who was sick, remembering her father, remembering Harrison. Every ten years, it seemed, it came for someone Sam loved.

Harrison lived, she reminded herself. Brooke would too. She had to. Sam felt the tears running down her cheeks when she heard Brooke crying too.

Sam ran into the room and pulled the other girl to her, neither one speaking.


	7. Busted

"What are you watching?!" Sam shouted, a little louder than she'd meant to.

Brooke hit the floor diving for the remote. She was sure that Sam wouldn't be home for another hour at least. "It's nothing," she shouted.

Sam grabbed the video box. Eyebrow arching, she read the title, "'Babes in Jail' – Where'd you find this?"

"It was with my dad's stuff in the garage." Brooke's face was the deepest shade of red Sam had ever seen.

"Well, if you could have at least waited for me," she said, sitting next to Brooke. "After all, I'm the one who had the nerve to come out to everyone."

Brooke started to apologize, but Sam put her hand over the blonde's mouth. "It's okay. You'll get there when you're ready."


	8. Facts

Brooke ran her fingers through her hair

Brooke ran her fingers through her hair. Surrounded by books, she'd spent the last few hours scribbling notes as if to carve through the paper into the desk underneath it. She'd searched the books for reasons (legal, ethical – even practical) why she couldn't be with Sam, why the whole idea was doomed. She had to show the headstrong girl what a dangerous idea it really was.

The more she searched, the more notes she took, the more she realized: even if she could convince Sam, she'd never convince herself.


	9. Hope

The question was gnawing at Brooke

**Disclaimer:** The characters - merely borrowed here for no gain - belong to the copyright owner.  
**A/N: **Wrote this awhile ago, as the intro to another story, which I didn't like once it was done.  
This chapter I did like, however, so I've rescued it as a stand-alone drabble. Hope no one minds.

The question was gnawing at Brooke. It had been ever since Sam had "come out" to the family over dinner, without warning.

Since then, Brooke felt every glace, every casual contact, as if other girl was made of fire. True, Sam never made any advances on her 'step-sister' Brooke imagined one in every friendly gesture, every less-than hostile word.

Things came to head one night when Brooke peeked into Sam's room and asked the brunette if they could talk.

"Sure B. What's up?"

"There's something that's been on my mind since you told us about..." her voice trailed off.

"Since I told you I was gay?" Sam finished, her guard up.

"Yes, since then," Brooke continued. "You haven't dated anyone since... then."

"I haven't met anyone I wanted to – that doesn't mean it's not true!" Sam's was in full defensive mode now.

"No – No! That's not what I meant." Brooke was started to get exasperated.

"I just wondered if there was anyone you were interested in – you must have found someone attractive or interesting in the last few years."

"Well, that's not something I feel comfortable talking about." Sam turned her back on the flustered former cheerleader.

"After all we've been through the last few years, I would have thought you'd finally trust me a little more than that," she snapped, causing the brunette to spin around.

"There are things that..." – her fists were clenched at her sides – "just shouldn't be dug up."

"Why? How bad can it be? Do you really think I'd be offended if..."

"Oh... My... God!!" Sam shouted, her face flush with anger. "I don't believe you McQueen, after all that's happened, you just want to know if yet another person wanted you. Is your ego _never _satisfied?"

"It's not my ego Sam, I wasn't assuming that you were interested..." Sam stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. "Whatever Brooke" she said in the most dismissive tone she could.

Brooke sat on the bed, and hung her head, covering her face as she started to cry.

"I was hoping," she whispered to the empty room.


	10. Rooms

1.

Brooke McQueen was wandering back to her room when she paused at Sam's door. She couldn't decide whether Sam's room felt more comfortable than her own because of the nest-like clutter the other girl filled it with or simply because Sam herself was there.

Yes, Sam's room had Sam, and any room with that feature would always feel like home, Brooke knew, especially if she got to wrap herself around the brunette to fall asleep. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that couldn't happen – not with their parents just down the hall. Suddenly her room seemed very cold

She realized that her future would Sam would lead them to bed and – for once – the thought of physical intimacy filled her with excitement, rather than anxiety. When she and Sam were ready – well, when _Sam _was ready – Brooke was _beyond _ready.

"Dammit," she muttered. Thinking about the girl sleeping behind the door had her wanting to practice on herself. She could picture Sam in her underwear and a t-shirt, blankets half thrown-off, her hair sprayed across the pillow, her chest rising with every breath, her leg falling over the edge of the bed.

Brooke shook her head violently. She suddenly understood why boys always seemed to be in such a rush to "do it." She also remember how uncomfortable all the pressure made her feel, and she swore she'd never do that to Sam. She'd let Sam initiate their first time together.

The only problem with waiting was, after spending so many years figuring out _what _she wanted, she wanted it _now_. Still, she knew that, after their first encounter, she'd have _plenty _of chances to instigate things, and she planned to instigate a _lot_. Closing the door to her room, she sighed. For now, she'd have to content herself with her hand – _again_.

2.

Sam McPherson couldn't sleep. Her blankets were on the floor and her bed was a mess. She sat up, thinking she'd heard someone outside her door, but chalked it up to imagination. Her bed wasn't overly large, but it definitely seemed too big right now. There was just enough room to fit her and Brooke comfortably, she thought with a arched eyebrow and a grin.

She'd always stressed over what her first sexual encounter would be like, thinking of it as an obstacle that she'd have to get over someday. After all, everyone else enjoyed it, surely she would. Still, the idea never excited her, until the day she kissed the girl in the next room.

Now, it occupied her thoughts in an entirely new way. Instead of a wall to climb or a hurdle to jump, it was anticipated, like Christmas or a Birthday, but with a better present to unwrap.

"That did it!" Sam thought. The last thing that would help her sleep was thinking about "unwrapping" Brooke McQueen. "Christ! I might as well read, I'm not sleeping now," she snapped at the empty room.

"I wonder if Brooke's still up," she thought a few minutes later. She was grinning again.


	11. Christmas Eve

**A little late for this one, It's for the Christmas+Eve prompt on LJ. **

Brooke knew she should be excited. She be beaming with a sense of accomplishment, but, truly, she just felt tired as she lay on the couch with a cup of cocoa, her eyes half-open.

Around her were the remnants of her last few hours – scraps of wrapping paper and ribbon, used tape rolls, tinsel everywhere – but, finally, all the presents were under the tree and the lights finally worked. It looked perfect, Brooke thought, even if she said so herself. Still, she was very willing to wait until morning – _late_ in the morning – to look at it all.

The door burst open, snapping her awake. Sam and Mac were covered in snow and laughing as they pulled off their coats and boots. Brooke almost spilled her cocoa as Mac came running in and jumping on the couch next to her. Brooke smiled. She'd missed her sister more than she thought possible, grateful that her parents let the 7-year-old stay with her and Sam this Christmas.

She was not so grateful for the chill a wet, cold-nosed child hugging her sent down her spine.

"Oh my God! – You're freezing! What were you doing? – Making snow angels face down?" she mock-shrieked, hugging the girl to her.

"That was before the snowball fight." Sam interrupted, kneeling next to Brooke, wrapping her arm around her as Mac ran to look at the tree.

"Which ones are mine?!" she squealed.

"None – there're all for me a Brooke." Sam shouted, sticking her tongue out at the child, who responded in kind. Brooke rubbed her forehead, chuckling.

"You shouldn't be looking under there till _morning_, little miss!" she scolded, adding "You either!" to Sam, who pretended to look offended.

"Can't I open just _one_?" Mac whined.

"Brush your teeth and get into your pajamas and we'll _see_," Brooke offered, sending Mac shrieking out of the room.

"Everything looks great," Sam said, once they were alone. "I'm sorry I wasn't much help."

"You were on _keep-Mac-outside-so-she-doesn't-see-her-presents_ detail. Trust me – you _helped_."

"Thanks babe," Sam said, kissing her lover's mouth.

"Ewww…" Mac mocked from the stairs. "You're just like Mommy and Daddy."

"We have our moments," Sam said, smiling as she reluctantly pulled away from Brooke. "So, which one do you want to open tonight? – Remember, only _one_."

"This one!" Mac shouted, grabbing the biggest box under the tree.

"Of course _that_ one," Sam giggled. Brooke just laughed, no longer feeling sleepy.


	12. A Speech

_Another LJ prompt. This one was "Speech." _

Sam had never stressed over anything she'd written as much as this speech. She almost cried when Harrison asked her to be his best 'man' but didn't stop to think about the speech she'd have to give. Now she stared at her computer screen and, for once, her fingers weren't typing.

Harrison had finally found the perfect girl for him, Sam thought. Diane was sweet, pretty and smart. More importantly, she was completely in love with him.

Sam also loved Harrison, of course. They'd been best friends since they were kids, and she was still amazed sometimes that he'd stuck with her though it all. After all, she was his second love – and she was the one who'd ended up with his first.

If Sam was being honest, the best thing about this, she knew that she'd have to admit how relieved she was when Harrison finally found someone. He'd drifted through college without a significant relationship, though he'd had his share of 'girlfriends' – if you could call them that, coming and going so frequently. Sam felt at least partly to blame for his inability to commit. She knew that Brooke felt the same way – the two had talked about it enough, always hoping that their mutual best friend could find something like they shared.

It was Brooke who finally asked him when he was going to propose to the shy girl with the curls that she'd introduced him to. They'd been together for 2 years, and everyone assumed it was coming.

"Well, you two seem to be doing fine with getting married," he answered. "I don't know why we need to."

"_We_ can't get married," Sam answered, adding, "thanks to the right-wing bastards who think other people's love-lives are their business. However, there's no reason that you and D. can't…"

"It's not _fair_," Harrison said. "How can Diane and I do that when _you two_ can't? You two are the most perfect couple I know – and you _know_ how long it took me to figure _that_ out."

"Almost as long as it took _us_," Brooke said, smiling at Sam, "but Sam's right – there's no reason you and Diane can't have that – not on _our_ account."

"Are you _sure_?" Harrison asked, the most adorable look on his face.

"Absolutely," Sam said, placing her hands on Harrison's shoulders, her forehead pressed to his. "There's no reason you can't be heterosexual and still get married."

Harrison kissed her on the forehead before pulling her into a hug. "Well then, you're going to have to be my best man – sort of."

Sam practically jumped back. "Really? Me?" Her mouth hung open.

Harrison gave her his best '_are you stupid_?' look. "Who else?"

Staring at her computer, Sam realized she was crying again, thinking about that moment. She knew what she was going to say, and began to type.

At Harrison and Diane's apartment, Brooke smiled at the sheer cuteness of the couple. Diane and Brooke had been going over 'maid of honor stuff,' as Harrison dismissed it. Now the almost-newlyweds were sitting together on the couch, his arm around her.

"So," the girl asked with a mischievous grin, "we're getting married – When are you and Sam going to join us and be an old married couple?"

"Uh… when the law changes, I guess" Brooke answered.

"There's always Canada," Harrison offered. "Have you ever thought about it?"

"Sure we have, but, it's so far away."

"Oh _please_!" Diane sneered, "Vancouver's not that far, we could all go." Her face had a distinct _hint hint_ look to it.

Brooke smiled, imaging her and Sam in white dresses.

Maybe Vancouver wasn't so far away after all.


End file.
